


After every storm

by zlagella



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Depression, road to recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:14:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zlagella/pseuds/zlagella
Summary: Matteo lies in bed thinking about what to do next.





	After every storm

**Author's Note:**

> I know that David does wonders for Matteo’s mental health but I see Matteo first saving himself, and only then David swooping in to help, so I wanted to write a drabble about Matteo making that first step towards healing, even if he is a bit clumsy about it and his mind is all over the place. The boy is still trying. 
> 
> I might follow up with two more drabbles, Matteo reaching out to Hans, and ultimately a heart to heart with David. 
> 
> This is my first attempt at writing ever, so forgive my mistakes.

Matteo couldn’t move. He knew he had to.  
It was simple, he knew where he wanted to go and what he had to do. 

Shower. Get up. The bathroom is close. Shampoo will smell nice.

He could imagine himself doing it, getting up, opening the door of his stuffy room, taking off clothes that he’d been wearing for days now and turning on the tap with warm water.  
He could imagine it but he couldn’t make his body move.

Matteo has been here before, numerous times, times when he felt helpless and tired down to his bones, a pile of body parts that can’t be brought to life, staring at the ceiling thinking about nothing. It would last a day or two, and then a little spark of energy would find him and he’d try his best to use that little spark to light a fire that would get him going.  
He’d go back to functioning like a human being, and it would be hard to get his room back to a presentable state, cook something, or shower, but Matteo would manage somehow and he would be content with himself.

This time it was different.

Even Matteo who did so well in shutting thoughts out couldn’t ignore the warning signs. 

I need to get up I need to get up I need to get up 

He was in no state to form coherent thoughts but he knew everything was wrong.  
When was the last time he ate? He needed food so so badly but he was too weak to make anything for himself. What if he just starves to death here in this room, how long until they notice? Will David miss him? Would Jonas be hurt? Would his father come back to Germany for his funeral? Would the fucker feel guilty for leaving them then? 

Fuck fuck fuck I need to need to do something - 

Some random words floated his mind but he couldn’t catch any. Matteo felt for the first time in days that he needed to fix this. Something had to be done. 

Yes, life was not the best for him, but what is the plan - suffer then die? Die now? Could he kill himself, he didn’t think so… waste this one opportunity at existing, not the ideal solution.

Weirdly at the same time Matteo somehow felt both a want to get his life body existence under control, command it and own all of himself, and he also felt like he was making a plan of action for someone else, a person he did not care much for.

The phone kept buzzing. He hated it. They all wanted to know now where he is and what’s wrong now but he’s been withering inside for years and no one realised. It wasn’t their fault really, every man for himself, everyone knows that’s how nature works. Wasn’t their fault, but sometimes he still resented them, and at the moment couldn’t help hating the hypocrisy of the non-stop buzzing.

Would life get better if he went to see a therapist to get him on antidepressants? Matteo hoped that maybe it could be like legal drugs. His mother didn't like taking meds because it made her feel numb and slow all the time but Matteo often liked numb. Weed made him feel less and it slowed the world around him, wouldn't pills kind of do the same for him? While still giving him energy? Ha, he should Google it again. 

He needed something to make him numb right now, he ran out of weed and he could himself sobering up by the minute. His thought weren't as slow anymore. 

If he moved and started over somewhere else would he be happy? Just get up after finishing high school and go to Detroit? Ha, Detroit. Maybe he'd see David there.  
It'd be in a year or so, Matteo would be a better, happier, stronger person and David would maybe see him and apologise. Maybe he would regret not liking him sooner, or David would be different, too, and they would work better together.  
Maybe he would kiss him softly softly like he did once before in this very bed he now lay in.  
Maybe in Detroit David wouldn't be ashamed of kissing Matteo in public. 

Maybe. 

Matteo could actually go to Italy, why not? It's a realistic possibility, he spoke German fluently, was OK with English, and could do well for himself in some coastal city, working with tourists. 

It'd be a calm life, nothing like Berlin where everyone rushes, and people keep chasing artificial pleasures American TV shows make them believe they want. 

In Italy he could sit by the sea and listen to the quiet. With someone like David. He'd prefer for it to be his actual David, caressing Matteo’s hair softly, like he did weeks ago. But we can't have everything we want and Matteo was good with disappointments by now, was used to it. 

Italy is full of dark mysterious boys with warm brown eyes, certainly Matteo will manage to trick at least one of them that he's fun to be around. 

Yes yes he'll do that not the boy part but he'll be OK Italy that's where he should go the sea sun old ladies that own hostels that are always nice - 

The sun was shining through the window and Matteo’s thoughts were picking up pace.  
Just as he knew how it felt to keep falling down deeper and deeper to reach the bottom of the pit, he knew this feeling too, a spark of energy, maybe even hope. 

It didn't even matter that maybe it wasn't completely healthy to find hope and escape in leaving everyone he knows, severing all contact, but it was at least a little healthier than being half dead in this room… maybe?.. I guess? What the hell do I know about healthy anyways, thought Matteo. 

It feels better and I’ll take it. 

His hair was itchy from being greasy. 

He'll apologise to Hans tomorrow. 

There was a chocolate bar in his backpack. Matteo tried sitting up. He felt dizzy and for a moment he lost perception of where he is while his eyes only saw black. After his vision cleared he felt he had enough strength to get the bag. Chocolate first, then shower. 

Matteo sat on the floor eating it, books and notebooks all around him, the room was truly a mess, something it'll take days to get back under control. 

Matteo reached for the notebook right next to his foot, his Biology notebook, turned pages trying to find what he was looking for.  
Once, while studying he was listening to some shitty Italian pop music, when one line stood out and he had written it out. 

Succede sempre dopo ad ogni tempesta  
L'aria non è la stessa e forse neanche tu

Matteo got up and went to get a shower.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation of the song: 
> 
> What happens is that after every storm  
> The air around is not the same  
> and perhaps neither are you 
> 
> (tbh the idea for a fic came to me while listening the song so I wanted to include it) 
> 
> The song is Muhammad Ali by Marco Mengoni


End file.
